


Not The Shiniest Knight

by CavannaRose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Hunters & Hunting, Minor Injuries, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 18:18:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13277190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: Reader works retail, and heading home one night finds herself in a pickle. Luckily there's a Hunter nearby to help her out.





	Not The Shiniest Knight

Another long and trying night came to an end. As you shrugged off the polyester uniform shirt you grumbled little comforts to yourself. Just one more customer like that last jerk and you would walk out, you swore it. Or at least that's what you kept repeating to yourself, a kind of mantra to make it through the late bus ride home. Of course, it had the added benefit of giving your expression some serious resting bitch face, enough that even the drunks steered clear... What a laugh. As if anyone would bother. Mid-thirties, worn out from a day of customer service, faded superhero t-shirt hanging far too low over your polyester work slacks that still didn't hide the fact you were far from a size six... Hell, size 14 was starting to vanish in the rear-view mirror. Leaning your forehead against the smog-stained glass of the mirror, you did your best to stay angry, at least it kept you from flat-out giving up.

Finally, the bus made it to your stop. Since the food situation in your kitchen cupboards was hitting the critical level, you stopped at the variety store, hitting up the ATM first, no need to repeat last week's declined card dance. Seeing all those zeroes on the wrong side of the number, all in hazily backlit grey and blue was depressing. Even if you wanted to, there's no way you could quite your job. Just paying rent was going to be a juggling game this month. Shoulders slumping, you slowly wander the three aisles of the shop, drawing the usual sedentary cashier's attention. Feeling the pressure from his squinty-eyed glare, you grab a loaf of bread with no obvious signs of mold and a couple packs of ramen noodles. Combined with the half bottle of strawberry wine ($6.95 at the grocery store around the corner) and a mostly full jar of peanut butter in your fridge, this would have to hold you until next pay.

Turning back to the counter, you notice the clerk has left his post, and indignation builds up in the pit of your stomach. You weren't some scummy low life here to shrift, you just wanted to pick up something to eat. It wasn't a damn crime. The click of a lock interrupted your internal tirade, causing your spine to stiffen, eyes darting around in concern. What was that? Frowning, your gaze met that of the clerk.

"Shift's over. We're closed." He laughed, a creepy sound that grated on your nerves, and then stepped towards you, lips spreading in a mockery of a smile. As his mouth parted, what appeared to be a second row of razor sharp teeth descended.

"Okay... what the absolute fuckery is this?" Dropping bread and ramen packets, you began to back up, trying to keep the distance between you and whatever was happening with the clerk as broad as possible. "Look, buddy. I don't know what your deal is, but I hear there are some really good dentists up this way. Clearly you're having a crisis, so I'm just going to head home, we good?"

He licked his lips, eyes hungry, making the gesture somehow both lewd and bone-jarringly terrifying as he continued stalking you through the crowded shelves. The part of your brain that stored way more information than necessary was desperately feeding you increasingly more implausible explanations for what was happening, but you squashed them with what remained of your common sense. There was no such thing as monsters. No vampires, no weird human-animal beasts that stalked living prey. This guy was tripping on some kind of drug and seriously needed braces. That was all.

"You're not going home ever again, bloodbag."

...

"Bloodbag? You must watch too many of those B-rated horror movies they have on TV these days."

Your eyes go wide and you turn to see an older man standing with what appeared to be a damn sword coming around the other side of the shelves. The sight was ridiculous, he was attractive, well-manicured beard, faded ball cap and a worn plaid shirt over the whole ensemble, yet something about his gruff tone of voice said he would make this right. Tentatively, you took another step away from Toothy by the door, this time towards the newcomer. He wasn't exactly a knight in shining armour, but he did have a big, shiny sword, which you could barely wrap your head around right now.

Toothy made a lunge for you as you drew closer to Sword Guy, but he was way faster than he looked. With one fluid motion he had grabbed hold of your arm, tucked you in behind him, and maneuvered the tip of his blade alongside the dental nightmare's neck. "Ma'am, you may want to step outside for this next part, I don't think it's going to be pleasant." Fairly certain he wasn't exaggerating, you let him slowly rotate the pair of you around the very obviously not a vampire, until you were the person closest to the door. With a sigh of relief, you headed for the exit. "Don't run, it draws too much attention, and our friend here might get all excitable."

You had no intention of running, weren't even sure if you could run, given the way your legs were shaking. You made it outside, bracing your back against the corrugated aluminium wall as horrible sounds emerged from the bodega. They were the fifteen longest minutes of your entire life. No matter what your imagination came up with, you were fairly certain what was actually happening was far, far worse. Finally, the man emerged, pulling his shredded plaid off his shoulders and wiping something dark and sticky off the blade of the sword. Surprise registered on his face when he saw that you were waiting. "Ma'am, you didn't need to wait around."

"Need? No, but I would like some answers, if that's not too much trouble." You paused, looking him over again, noting several unpleasant looking gashes. "I live just up the block, I could clean those wounds for you as a thank you. I think you may have saved my life, or at least that's what I think when I give up convincing myself that Toothy there wasn't a monster."

He grunted, throwing the sword in the back of an old truck and pulling out a duffle bag, before locking it all up. "All right, but only because I can't find a motel in this god-forsaken place."

You laughed at that, shaking your head as you led him to your third floor walk-up over the laundromat. It wasn't ideal, and everything was both old and worn, kind of like you yourself these days, but it was tidy and homey, and you had a comfortable recliner he could sit on. You headed to the bathroom to fetch the first aid kit, re-emerging to find him leaning against the counter in the kitchen. You winced, not having wanted anyone that close to the evidence of your poverty.

The man held a hand out to you. "Name's Bobby, thanks for offering to patch me up."

Offering your own name, you took the hand with your own, noting the roughness of a working man's hands, the strength in his grip, the warmth of human touch that made you stretch to remember the last time you'd actually touched another living being. The last made you release him quickly, pulling back into yourself. Dangerous territory, dwelling on such things. You busied yourself with the first aid kit to hide your embarrassment. "I'll have to ask you to take the t-shirt off so I can properly get at those lacerations."

You tried not to flirt, you really did, nobody wanted that, but you couldn't help flash him a look from under your lowered lashes, blushing as the shirt came off. He wasn't a young man, and his stomach was running a bit paunchy, the hair on his chest greying, but to you it was like double scoops of ice cream with chocolate sprinkles, heating up your insides. Trying to coerce yourself to stop with that nonsense, you moved closer, gently wiping at one of his injuries with an antiseptic wipe. They usually made you howl in complaint, but the man, _Bobby_ , didn't even flinch.

"So do you do this often Mister... Bobby?" Cursing yourself for ten kinds of lame, you bandaged that cut and moved to the one at his side, trying not to notice that he smelled like blood, engine grease, outdoors, and pure, unadulterated male. He sucked his stomach in as you fished a piece of what looked like a very long fingernail out of the injury, but both of you tried to ignore it. Just like you were ignoring the urge to place your hand on his chest, right above where his stomach began to swell out. You paused from where you were kneeling at his side, glancing up at him once more through those long lashes of yours, and noticed he was turning a little red himself.

Gently as he could, he nudged you out of the way and sidestepped away from the counter. Both of you were breathing more heavily than the level of activity warranted. "Look sweetness, it's not that I'm not tempted, but I'm old enough to be your Pa, and I'm just passin' through ... I don't want to make promises that I can't keep."

You laughed, a startled sound. You hadn't even thought that he might be as tempted as you were, but that sealed it for you. Giving him a shy smile, you indicated a door at the far side of the kitchen. Time to lay out some truth in as straightforward a manner as you could muster, before you lost your nerve. "I haven't spent this much not-work time with another human in so long I can't remember, and you're exactly the kind of man that makes my knees weak. I'm going in there to get undressed and into bed, you can join me, or sleep on the couch. There's already a blanket and some cushions out there. Choice is yours, but I'm hoping you say yes."

Blushing furiously you breeze past him, gently closing the door behind you. Crossing to the other side of the bed, you struggled out of the polyester pants, hands shaking. The click of the door opening at your back sent your heart racing, and painted a big old smile across your face. Today just kept getting more and more interesting.


End file.
